#justice for benny writes

[mossyscavern]

An old what now..?

__________________

“¡¿Él hizo qué?! ¡¿Este idiota hizo qué?!”

Is what Tom heard from the redhead before things took a turn. He wasn’t even paying attention until Sam started going off while speaking in words he doesn’t understand.

“¡¿Que estabas pensando, Meterme con los no-muertos?! ¡¿De verdad?!” Every word he says it gets more confusing, more concerning and…

It’s scary. Very scary… but intriguing, especially when Travis backs into the old couch. Said boy becoming more and more scared of the redhead.

“¡¡Eres un idiota estúpido, un humano sin cerebro, un maldito pedazo de mierda inculto!! ¡¡Nunca deberías meterte con los muertos alguna vez en tu vida!! Follando…” sam trailed off. Taking a deep breath, then sighed.

“I Really need some space.” He spoke, normally this time before storming off to the well. Leaving all 6 to their thoughts about the situation.

“Alright, I bite… tHE ACTUAL HELL!! Was that?!” Tim asked, sounding confused. “I don’t know, but my heart’s pounding.” Tom told him, clutching his torn tie. “… you don’t have a heart beat.” He reminded him. “Exactly.” He said.

“Travis? Benny? You ok??” Lilian asked, said both boys looked shocked beyond their words. “… is Sam possessed?” Benny asked, bringing out his cross.

“N-no, he’s jUsT-.. just mad.” Travis said, shaking still as he stood up from the couch. “You sure you’re shaking.” Caleb pointed out, watching the teen’s legs.

“I-I’ll be fine, just note. Never piss off a Latino.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward manner. “… a what now?!” Tim asked.

“Latino, a guy who speaks Spanish, I-it’s a language English speakers don’t understand.” Travis told them, hoping it makes sense to the ghost kids of the 1920’s.

“Are you sure he isn’t possessed?” Benny asked. “… how can Sam get possessed?!” Travis asked, annoyed at Benny’s assumption with what happened. “You’d be surprised.” “HE’S ALREADY DEAD!”

Travis yelled. A bit later it started a huge fight between the four siblings and Travis. Tom looked away from the scene, towards where Sam went. Nervously contemplating.

On one hand he wanted to leave, look for the redhead and get answers as to what made Sam go ‘Latino’ on Travis… on the other hand he didn’t want to intrude… but the fighting and curiosity was making him chose the first, but he doesn’t want to upset Sam any further…

With how loud the five are and with no choice he limped towards the well, leaving his siblings and Travis to fight about their opinions on the redhead.

‘I hope he’s not too angry… like how she was.’

__________________

To be fair, I wanted to continue what I’ve left off with old language habits…

Except in 3rd p.o.v… originally I wanted to put it as Tom’s p.o.v cause in canon he has his troubles with trying to communicate because his neck is broken.

Plus, who better to partially understand yet don’t have a clue about the situation at the same time then Tom weaver, why?

… because I want to.

[lavenderleahy]

🥘🧑‍🍳🧛🏾 Benny Lafitte 👀 (for the drabble thing-y, hopefully I did it right 😩)

Benny whiffs the concoction bubbling on the stove. Steam engulfs his face and sends prickling heat through his pores, warming his ever-cold skin, and he takes a moment to breathe it in before dipping in the tasting spoon. What he misses most about being human is the taste of jambalaya. It’s not right anymore; he only has a taste for blood. But his sniffer works fine, and he doesn’t need to bring the rice to his lips to instruct his sous chef, “More paprika.” He does it anyway.

“Yes, chef,” she responds. 

Benny gives a melancholy smile in return. 

Send me an emoji and I will write a drabble (100 words)

[thebraxiatelcollection]

very much enjoyed your benny episode <3 i'm sooo sad i've nearly finished listening to all of benny i really love her

Ah, thank you kind friend 😭🩵. I am so glad that you have enjoyed it! I hope you liked the side characters? I had a lot of fun writing them.

And yes! Bernice Summerfield is really underappreciated as a companion. I love her cynaism and dry sense of humour so much. She has been through a lot of traumatic events in her life that make her use her cynaism as a shield.

I also love the fact that she's not a "young" companion either. She's very relatable, I think.

Have you divided into the benny books?

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

could I get Dazai x Jessica rabbit male reader? Like reader is taller is feminine and intimidatingly sexy and Dazai endearingly is his “roger rabbit” in this situation, male reader is disinterested in me and woman alike to try to woo him and is polite but firm with he’s not there for you he’s there for someone else. The. Dazai comes strutting in and hangs on male reader’s should with love struck eyes and everyone is like “how the fuck did you end up with him-?” And male reader is like “He makes me laugh”

Dazai Osamu - Jessica Rabbit-Like Male Reader 

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

This is ADA Dazai and not PM Dazai since you didn't specify in your ask what time frame you wanted this in. This is my first time writing Dazai so I apologize if I didn't capture his character properly. I also wrote this headcannons in second person for a change, let me know if you like this more than the usual. I hope I did your ask some justice, Anon. The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Why Don't You Do Right” written by Joe McCoy and sung by Peggy Lee. —Benny🐰

Warnings -> Suggestive, Mentions of Suicide, Reader will have descriptions that correlate with the character 'Jessica Rabbit'

                                                                                                   

🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒

❝𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞, 1922-- 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚❞

. . .

🎙   When Dazai and [Name] first met, you can imagine what the first thing the bandaged man said to them was, of course, asking to commit double suicide with him. The tall and seductive stranger giggled and declined, thinking the bandaged man was simply making a morbid joke, but he planted a sweet kiss on Dazai's cheek and made his way down the street and out of the ADA detective's line of sight. The way the taller man's hips swayed as he strutted away had the brunette staring after him with wide eyes, sparkling with interest.

🎙  The two met again and subsequently exchanged contact information as well as planned a date during one of the investigations he was a part of. Something about the murder of a guy that happened in the club that [Name] performed in and the perpetrator being an ability user. After the investigation wrapped up, Osamu made sure to rizz him up and once again coax them into a double suicide, to which they again chuckled at and denied. For the mentioned date, Osamu took them to the movies them out to eat at the Uzumaki Diner before walking them home and being sent off with a kiss.

🎙  Now the two are married; two years going strong. Dazai makes sure to show up to every single performance his husband has at whichever club it happens to be at; oftentimes skipping out on his paperwork in order to do so. Dazai does make sure to tell [Name] that he in no way needs to come and see him at the ADA just in case, for their safety. Occasionally though, the seductive club singer does pay the bandaged man a workplace visit; usually dropping him off lunch or just to spend time together after being apart for a while.

🎙  Most times [Name]'s visits end up with him sitting sideways on his husband's lap while listening to him talk about his day in an animated fashion. Trailing his index finger up and down Osamu's chest slowly and sensually; the natural seductive smile playing on his lips. [Name] smothering the brunette in tons of kisses; leaving prints of his painted lips all over his husband's face and staining the bandages wrapped around his neck. Feeding each other whatever Osamu decided to grab from the vending machine on the other side of the room.

🎙  Speaking of the ADA; those in the agency still can't wrap their heads around how the two got together in the first place. [Name] is a drop-dead gorgeous sex symbol of a man who has a flourishing career as a club singer and Dazai is... well himself. Poor Atsushi nearly had a stroke trying to process the two being in a loving and stable relationship. How the bandaged man and his husband interact also seems to leave a few select people feeling painfully single and Dazai absolutely revels in their suffering. The man definitely plays up his interactions with [Name] just to get a rise out of them. When Kunikida asked the tall man just what he saw in his husband he answered that Dazai made him laugh.

🎙  Overall, the two have a very loving and stable relationship. Despite Osamu's want for death, [Name] makes him feel like life may be worth living just a little while longer than he thought. Every night that he spends in his husband's embrace is another night he feels safe, loved, and protected from the haunting memories of his past actions and those he's lost. Although... most nights the two of them don't get to sleep until late into the night.~ All Osamu's doing I'm sure, the scoundrel.

. . .

❝𝖂𝖍𝖞 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝖉𝖔? 𝕲𝖊𝖙 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞 𝖙𝖔𝖔❞

🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒•♡•🍒

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

congrats on 2222!! soulmate au with frankie would be so cute. I love frankie sm he’s just the cutest 😍

Hi lovely! Thank you for this prompt. I was a bit apprehensive because I've read one (1) soulmate AU in my entire life and wasn't sure if I could do it justice. But obviously, Frankie takes this by the ears and I just had the best time writing it. This is also a college AU because apparently I love AUs set with Pedro boys in college 🤷🏻‍♀️

This drabble is actually an AU of an upcoming fic I have in the works, called Summer House (with a lot less angst and pain). I hope you like it sweet anon!

Frankie Morales x soulmates AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1346 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, college AU, inexperienced reader, drinking games, friends to soulmates

Sometimes, you wonder what colour Frankie’s eyes are.

It’s not something you wonder about often, not when everyone has grey eyes - but not really. One day, when you kiss your soulmate for the first time, you will see their eye colour, and they will see yours.

So you definitely don’t have any business wondering anything of the kind about Frankie at all, seeing that you two do not get along. Never have, probably never will, despite having been in the same close knit group since you were kids. Benny has long played the second to your principal in your duels with Frankie, while Santi is his, with Will keeping the peace whenever you get into a particularly thorny disagreement.

But that’s the funny thing about friendship. Despite your bickering, you got his back, and you know he has yours.

You’ve heard about it once or twice through the grapevine in high school, but finding one’s soulmate seems to be a dime a dozen in college, with happy news dropping left, right and centre throughout the academic year.

While you’re not in a hurry to find your fated other half, you start thinking that you should at least get started with the kissing part. You’re way behind your friends and peers on that front, somehow missing out on the formative experience despite being a regular fixture at house parties at high school, then sorority parties in your freshman year in college.

You really should blame the boys. No one wants to risk messing with a girl who has three hulking seniors and one equally hulking sophomore at her beck and call, not when there are far easier options around.

But you know it’s not just that, and you’ll only admit it when you're drunkenly tucking yourself into bed, alone yet again after another party. It feels like you’re the only person your age who’s still (stupidly) holding onto the hope that your first kiss can be something, not just a sloppy makeout session with too much tongue and too little meaning.

And so you find yourself, still never been kissed, when summer rolls around at the end of your first year at college. Your gang of five is about to shrink to just you and Benny, with the rest of the boys enlisting after they graduate, and the impending farewell upsets you more than you care to show.

The five of you spend the first week together at the Millers’ summer house after school lets out, as has been tradition since you were kids - with your parents when you were younger, but it’s been just kids for the last few years.

Well, just the kids plus one, since Frankie always brings a girlfriend. Unfailingly, it's someone beautiful with perfect hair who has a wandering eye for the other boys, and hates your guts for being the only girl in the group.

On the last night, the guys invite a select crowd over for one final hurrah before they go home and get ready to ship out to basic training the following week. Music is booming, cheap beer is flowing, and you’re all in the garden, the sticky Floridian heat clinging to you like a second skin.

Ironically, it’s Frankie’s girlfriend who wants to play spin the bottle. He sits opposite you, his Standard Oil cap pulled over his eyes but failing to hide his annoyance at being forced to participate. You roll your eyes at him across the circle, and he gives you a middle finger back.

Will, the self-appointed gamesmaster, spins the bottle set on a pizza box atop the lawn.

It spins, and spins, and spins - until it doesn’t.

You look on in sheer horror when the bottle stutters to a stop squarely before you, the other end pointing at Frankie, who turns green with nausea.

‘FUCK NO!’

You attempt to run, only to be tackled to the ground by Santi, who practically hauls you by the waist back to the circle as you kick and scream.

Frankie, on the other hand, has to be restrained by both Miller brothers.

‘I have a girlfriend!’ he shouts, digging the heels of his beat-up sneakers into the grass.

She doesn’t seem to mind though, clapping gleefully along with everyone else, chanting, ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’

Shoved toe to toe in the middle of the circle under watchful eyes, you exchange vicious glares. Frankie’s broad shoulders are hunched over defensively, arms crossed. It’s strange, you’ve known him forever, but this is probably physically the closest you’ve ever been to each other without being locked in a fist fight.

Warmth bounces off his tightly wound up frame as he towers over you, and by some folly, you feel an inexplicable pull.

You fight the staggering want to bury your nose in that grey tshirt (the one he wears Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and restocks at Old Navy when it wears too thin), to swipe that hat off his head to brush the curls from his face, to look into his eyes - and see what colour they are.

In the end, Frankie breaks first - you’re not sure if it’s the jeering and goading from the crowd or your stubborn standoff that makes him snap. Grabbing you by the elbow, he hauls you firmly into his chest before you can react.

You should be embarrassed, mortified that this is how you’re going to end up losing your first kiss. And yet, losing doesn't seem like the right word.

There’s a deep-seated calmness inside you, knowing that it’s going to be Frankie. The boy you’ve known since you were three, the teenager who used to make you cry with stupid juvenile pranks, and the man now who wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch if anyone even looks at you the wrong way.

As soon as the tip of his proud nose brushes yours, your eyes slide shut of their own accord - and he kisses you.

God, his lips are so soft. Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees wobble so dangerously that your fingers twist into the front of his tshirt, holding on for dear life.

Can he tell that you don’t know how to kiss, at all? Does he think you’re terrible? The fact that this feels so fucking perfect despite having no idea what you’re doing sets you on edge, a magnifying glass trained on your inexperience in a way that makes you stiffen with nerves and awkwardness. 

He must be appalled at how bad you are, especially after the litany of gorgeous, more experienced girls he’s been with over the years. You can’t believe you’re subjecting him to this, how would he ever look you in the eye afterwards -

But then, something shifts when his hands find your waist, palms easily spanning the small of your back as he pulls back for air, but only just, still so close that you can feel the tickle of his beard on your chin. There’s an unmistakable hitch in his breath, a tremour as he exhales, which in turns makes you tremble and switches off the unwelcome commentary in your head.

It’s as if he wants you.

Before you can think too hard, Frankie leans in and kisses you again, harder this time, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth, and heat chases down your spine like a meteor. He sucks on your bottom lip when it falls open in a gasp, dipping between your lips with a clever swipe of his tongue against yours that makes you shudder and whimper, which he swallows with a possessive growl.

Your lungs are burning when he draws back, his nose still touching yours.

Then he calls your name.

You blink as your eyes open -

Frankie’s staring at you, lips parted, his gaze reverential. Like he’s never seen you before. Reaching up, he takes your face in his hands, calloused palms on your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the tears that won’t stop. You break into a watery grin, which he mirrors, a warm chuckle rumbling in his chest, holding you close as everything falls into place -

Frankie’s eyes are brown.

Note: In case it's not clear, in this fic, everyone’s eyes appear grey. You can only see your soulmate's eye colour after you kiss them for the first time.

[littleguyconnor]

IHNMAIMS CAST RE-INTERPRETATION

Due to my visceral hatred of the game and the way they handled the characters, I’ve decided to re-write their stories a little bit! I’m using the book, comics, and radio drama as reference, and my own headcanons too for fun. This is all For Fun

Ellen

Things I’m Keeping

Born in Trenton, New Jersey

Computer scientist

3 degrees

Went to Stanford university 

Graduated high school early

Lived with her grandparents 

Hope in humanity

Self assured

Sympathetic

Rape survivor

Little to no interest in sex in general

Work driven

Career focused

Things I’m Changing

Black rights advocate

Queer rights advocate 

Feminist

Outspoken

Trans woman 

Lesbian

No interest in motherhood

Fell into a depression when her assault left her with chronic illness and pain

Has OCD

Character Notes

Highly distrustful of people. Kind and caring, but her concern for others is surface level. Struggles with the fear of men and violent intrusive thoughts. Favorite color is red. It calms her.

——

Ted

Things I’m Keeping

Born near Shelby, North Carolina

Grew up extremely poor

Lived on a farm

Interest in reading

Knack for mechanics and engineering

No traditional education, self taught

Studied intensively

Education focused

Grooming victim

Charming

Relied on his body for money

Philanthropist

Rich

Good sense of morals

Kindhearted

Things I’m Changing

Closeted bisexual

Not a con-artist

Not a racist

Not a womanizer

Has anxiety

Has a paranoid personality disorder

Touch adverse

Struggles with dermatillomania

Demisexual

Character Notes

Had always been paranoid and anxious even before AM, but it made his problems even worse. Struggles heavily with internalized homophobia, and gets visually uncomfortable when queer topics or people are discussed. Prideful and egotistical out of habit, but is deeply insecure in reality.

——

Gorrister

Things I’m Keeping

Born in the Midwest

Troublemaker as a child

Disrespect for authority 

Did poorly in school

Moves across states for work

Practically friendless

Has experience as a construction worker, electrician, mechanic, and a trucker

Interest in reading

Prefers to stay home and eat home-cooked meals

Wants to settle down

Divorced

Anti-war

Left-leaning political activist

Strong sense of morals and justice

Wanted a family

Things I’m Changing

Marriage with Glynis was not abusive

Did not strike his wife 

Divorced due to wanting different things out of life and overwhelming mental health issues

Bisexual

Queer rights activist 

Has depression

Has CPTSD

Born in Texas specifically

Struggles with alcoholism

Struggles with anger issues

Is an artist

Character Notes

Very deeply loved and adored his wife. He did everything he could for her, but it just wasn’t enough. Glynis’ worsening mental state became too much for either of them to handle, and Gorrister didn’t know what to do. Sending her to a mental hospital was a non-option, things got worse, and she commuted suicide. He blames himself for it every day of his life.

——

Nimdok

Things I’m Keeping

Born in Düsseldorf

Jewish parents

Went to medical school 

Apparent lack of compassion

Gay

Scientist

German

Has dementia

Had a partner in Brazil

The oldest of the group

Self assured

Logical

Things I’m Changing

Not a nazi 

Not decrepit 

Has early-onset dementia specifically

Not AM’s favorite

Low empathy

Low sympathy

Has a general disinterest in other people

AroAce

Struggles with schizophrenia 

Character Notes

While unable to sympathize or understand other people’s emotions, it wasn’t ever in his nature to be outright mean or cruel. Rather, his dementia is what caused the change in behavior. Sometimes he has moments of clarity, where his true nature can be seen for a few fleeting moments. Still retains his sharp scientific mind.

——

Benny

Things I’m Keeping

Gay

Professor

Good looking

Intelligent

Born somewhere in America

Strong willed

High perseverance

Self assured

Physically strong

Things I’m Changing

Had absolutely nothing to do with the military 

Did not have a wife

Is not needlessly mean or violent

Career driven

Focus in academics

Knows sign language

Struggles with chronic fatigue and pain

A softer man

Interest in nature and the outdoors 

Character Notes

Never one to start a fight or even anger much at all, Benny was laidback and easygoing. He had a calm life, and his personality was upbeat. Nothing ever seemed to bring him down. Not even his chronic illnesses, as frustrating and disheartening as they could be. In his free time he was somewhat of a survivalist. 

[dovesdreaming]

Could you write dirty little secret for Benny Weir?

⋆｡𖦹 I’ll keep you my dirty little secret ⋆｡𖦹

Hi I really hope I did this justice but I don’t think my idea fully worked out idk. But I did two versions of this aswell because I couldn’t decide on the readers personality. This fic is a kinder reader where as the other version is a mean girl reader. <3

Cheerleader!reader x Benny weir

Warnings: none

You were a cheerleader which meant you were also one of the popular people. The people who get invited to all the parties thrown, the people who clear the crowds in the hallways and don’t forget your apart of the group who are considered to be able to get anyone you wanted but the person you wanted was someone you weren’t allowed to have. Your friends (or should you say people who you hung out with at school) were always pushing you to go out with one of the athletes that flirted with you but you just weren’t interested, your mind always thinking back to the boy you stare at in classes. You weren’t allowed to date anyone considered unpopular according to the circle you were apart of. It was stupid and you knew none of it would matter outside of high school but you went along with their stupid rules so that you didn’t go back to being picked on like you had been in middle school.

You were smart but had never really understood maths that well, you tried your best but it never seemed to work for you. Your grades were dropping and you needed them so that you could escape this god awful town. Your maths teacher made you stay after class, you knew this had been coming, he wanted to give you a tutor. You’re actually quite thankful for the help and it gives you an excuse to get away from your friends quicker. You teacher told you that your tutor would be waiting in the library after school.

You walked into the library finding it empty like it usually is. You take a seat and get ready, waiting for your tutor to arrive. A few minutes later you look up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and your mouth dries at the sight of the boy, the boy you stare at in class. Benny weir. You compose yourself as he sits opposite you. The two of you had never spoken before and yet you immediately seemed to get on, sharing the same sense of humour. You never wanted to leave this library yet as you looked out the window and saw the sun setting you guessed you should start heading back before your parents worried.

From that day onwards you and Benny only got closer. You only shared stolen glances during the day only getting to really talk to him once the school bell rang. In the space of a few months you had gone from strangers to friends to girlfriend and boyfriend. Your friends had noticed the change in your behaviour and how you didn’t attend any parties or hangouts anymore. You instead spent this time with Benny. You were determined to keep your relationship a secret from everyone for as long as possible, it would be yours and Bennys dirty little secret.

Thank you for reading! I promise I’m working on my requests I only have 2!

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 30

We left Frankie in a pretty bad state at the end of the last chapter and now we need to get through that as his girl and the guys begin to really worry about where his actions are leading him. And Joel steps in of course, but perhaps not in the best way.

I just want to add too, that this chapter included a conversation that has been a long time coming but it was very hard to write since neither man wants to talk about it and I can just hope I did them both justice.

I just want to add too, since some people are nervous about it; I LOVE hearing your thoughts and comments on what I write, even if the chapter is months and months old! It's my favourite thing about posting here and on Ao3, hearing your thoughts as you read through the fic, so please, share with me!

Series Master List

Chapter 31 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 7.7k

You wake with a start, your body jerking you awake with panicked breaths. The bedroom is light, the window faces south and a weak sun is glinting through the closed curtain which means you slept far longer than usual, the sun rises late in the Massachusetts winter months. You rush to push back the comforter and hurry out into the living room. The blanket is pushed back on the couch and Frankie is not there, and not in the kitchen either. As you turn to the bathroom you see what’s missing, his boots, his jacket and backpack. 

“Fuck!” you groan loudly and run back to the bedroom, grabbing your clothes from last night and rushing to put them on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You feel an urgent need to get to Frankie, to talk to him. It’s not like him to leave, certainly not in the middle of an argument, and never, ever, has he left in the morning without saying anything to you. Something is not right, it feels like the two of you have crossed a line that you need to get you both back behind. 

You tie your boots and shrug your winter coat on, your first stop is Pope’s place. You hammer on his door and he throws it open, his face falling when he sees your expression. 

“Frankie came home drunk last night and now he’s left again, I don’t know where he is!” you blurt out as Pope lets you into his apartment. 

“Slow down, hermana,” he says, grabbing hold of your shoulders, steadying you, “From the beginning.” 

“Frankie and I got into an argument about what he did when he was on that run with Will, he couldn’t understand why I thought he was too violent,” you say, trying to calm yourself, but your hands are shaking and Pope grabs them, holding them together between his own. “Then Joel came by, right in the middle of it, something about planning a new run, and Frankie just left with him, saying he needed to think. And then he came back late last night , really drunk and passed out on the couch, and now he’s gone! He never leaves without saying goodbye and I don’t know where he is!” Your voice breaks on the last word and Pope lets go of your hands, bending down to grab his boots. 

“We’ll go find him, we’ll go to Benny’s first, Tommy said something yesterday about meeting there.” He looks up at you while he laces his boots, “Don’t worry, hermana, it’s early still, he can’t have gone that far.” 

…

“Tell me again what this FEDRA guy told you about the raiders?” Benny asks Joel as they duck under a broken piece of the highway and head into an old sewage tunnel. 

“A small FEDRA patrol saw a bunch of them down in Dorchester, if we take them out, we get to keep the supplies,” Joel replies, stepping around a dead rat. 

“And you trust this guy?” 

“Yeah, he owes me a favor, I saved his ass a couple of times. And he’s given me tips before, they’ve always been solid, nothing this big though.” 

“Alright, as long as you think it’s a legit tip,” Benny nods and falls back a bit, Frankie’s right behind him, Tommy taking up the rear. 

“You ok, Fish? You look a bit pale,” Benny says, his voice lower for the benefit of his friend. 

“Yeah, just slept like shit, and we had a fucking early wake up call,” Frankie grumbles, pulling the bill of his cap down lower over his eyes.

“Tell me about it,” Benny sighs, “Eve just woke up to say goodbye, then she went right back to sleep. Wish I could’ve stayed in bed with her.” 

“Mmhm, same,” Frankie mutters, pausing as they come to the end of the tunnel.

“Ok, on your toes now, we've got to go out in the open here,” Joel says, waving the other three men forwards. 

…

The trek down to Dorchester is smooth, and it doesn’t take long for them to find the raiders' small camp. They’ve set up on the top floor of an office building and Benny and Frankie silently take out the two guards at the bottom of the stairs. It gets messy when they reach the top and they have to open fire but Joel tosses in a homemade smoke bomb and after that they can just pick off the raiders as they come stumbling out. 

They pick through the raider’s supplies and fill their packs, it’s a pretty good haul and Benny starts searching for any food they might’ve hidden, coming across a door that’s been blocked off with a filing cabinet. 

“Hey, Catfish! Give me a hand with this!” he calls to Frankie, “Cover me in case they’ve locked a fucking infected in here or something.” 

Frankie stands a few feet from the door with his rifle raised as Benny puts his shoulder to the filing cabinet and pushes it out of the way. The door swings open and Benny jumps out of the way. 

“Oh fuck, shit! Man, that’s foul!” 

The dead boy of a young woman falls out across the doorway, her body must’ve been propped against the door, and judging by the stench, she’s been dead a while. The body of another young woman is curled up on a dirty mattress, she’s less far gone, her emaciated features still clear. Both women are naked and Benny swallows hard and glances back at Frankie as they both realize why the women were locked up. 

“We should’ve killed those fucking raiders slower,” Frankie growls, turning away from the room and Benny follows him. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here and back to the QZ”. 

Back down at street level again Joel takes the lead and moves down the way they came, covering a couple of blocks before Benny suddenly signals for everyone to halt. 

“Heads up, I hear a car,” he calls in a low voice to the others. 

“More raiders,” Joel says, “C’mon, we’ll ambush them, this is the only cleared street.” He looks around the block they’re on and points to cars that have been pushed aside on either side of the street. “Frankie, Benny, hide behind either car, cover me. Tommy, get behind me. I’ll make them stop, usual way should work, if not, just shoot ‘em.” 

“Joel, you sure?” Benny interrupts, “How do we know they’re raiders? We should hang back and observe, see if they go for the base we cleared.” 

“No, then we just have to clear them out again and this time they’ll be on their guard,” Joel scowls, “Get in position!”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Benny shakes his head, looking over at Frankie who’s already moved into cover, “Fish? You ok with this?” 

“Joel’s right, it’s probably the same group of raiders, we need to take them out.” 

“Get in position, Benjamin, or stay the fuck out of our way, they’re almost here,” Joel points to the other car, staring at Benny. The younger man takes a deep breath, glancing over at Frankie again who motions with his head to get behind the car. 

“Fuck!” Benny growls and grips his rifle, ducking behind cover with an angry scowl. 

Joel quickly gets into position as the rumbling engine comes closer, keeping an eye out for the car. As it gets closer Benny sees it, it’s a small beat up sedan with several bullet holes in the sides. He glances over at Frankie and gives him a hand signal, indicating three people inside. Frankie nods and passes on the message to Tommy just as the car drives down the block they’re on. Ahead of him, Benny suddenly hears Joel give up a loud shout, stumbling out of the alley into the path of the car, his hand clutching his side, the other raised to the driver. 

The others watch, guns ready and hidden out of sight, as the car barrells towards Joel, who’s staggering across the road. Suddenly the driver slams the brakes and the car skids to a halt in front of Joel. From his hiding place Benny sees the driver open the door and step up on the instep, aiming a gun at Joel. 

“Hey, I-I need help, p-please,” Joel stutters, holding up the hand that’s not holding his side, where he’s conveniently hidden his handgun. 

“What’s wrong with you?” the driver calls as Joel stumbles closer, the man is still half hidden behind the door and Joel’s trying to get around to his side so he half falls to the side, taking several stuttering steps sideways. 

“You infected?” the driver says, following Joel with his gun, “Can’t help you then I’m afraid.” 

“R-raiders,” Joel coughs, “ran into a whole bunch.” 

Benny looks over at Frankie, he’s got a clear shot at the driver and he’s aiming at him. Benny signals at him to hold his fire, these guys don’t sound like raiders, but Frankie’s shaking his head, squeezing his rifle as the man continues to keep his gun on Joel. 

“Be careful, Dan!” a man in the car suddenly calls and Joel straightens up, pulling his gun, aiming at the man. A shot rings out and the driver slumps forward, a clean shot though his head. 

“God dammit, Frankie!” Benny yells, lifting his own rifle as the man in the car dives for the fallen man’s gun. Joel fires on him but misses and the man takes off running. On his right Ben hears Tommy open fire on the third person in the car as Joel yells. 

“Shoot his leg, Frankie, take him down alive!” The man is running as fast as he can down the block but two shots ring out and he yells, tumbling to the ground as blood bursts from his thigh. 

“Secure him, Benny,” Frankie yells and advances on the car, rifle raised. Benny keeps his gun on the fallen man and moves up to him, he’s splayed on his back, gripping his thigh, whimpering. 

“Oh fuck, please, please don’t kill me!” he says, trying to crawl backwards away from Benny. 

“Just stay still, I’m not gonna hurt you unless you give me a reason,” Benny says, keeping his distance as he glances back at the car. Frankie’s jogging towards him and behind him, Joel steps into the car and a woman screams. 

“No, no, don’t hurt her! She’s my sister!” the man on the ground shouts and Benny turns his head back to him as Frankie joins him. 

“What’s going on, Fish?” he says in a voice low enough for the man not to hear. 

“The third passenger is a woman, Joel’s questioning her about who they are and where they’re going.” 

“Fish! These guys are obviously not raiders, what the fuck are we doing?” Benny glances back at the car as another high pitched scream comes from the woman and the man on the ground shouts. 

“Get off her you fucking prick! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” 

Frankie raises his rifle and aims at the man, “Easy there, he’s just questioning her.” 

“What the fuck, Frankie, this is not how we treat civilians!”

“What fucking civilians? We can’t trust anyone, Benny, you saw what the raiders did to those two women!” Frankie growls. 

“Yeah, but these guys are barely armed!” Benny nudges the dropped gun on the ground with his boot, badly maintained and rusty. 

“And how the fuck were we supposed to know that?” Frankie asks, his rifle still trained on the bleeding man who’s whimpering, clutching his leg and looking towards the car. 

“Maybe we don’t attack just anyone who drives past!” Benny hisses at Frankie, his eyebrows drawn tight with anger and frustration. “This is so fucked up, Fish!”

“Is he still alive?” Joel barks as he walks over, leaving Tommy to watch over the woman in the car. 

“Yeah, but he’s bleeding, we need to get a tourniquet on that leg soon,” Benny replies, “Joel, what the fuck are we doing here? These guys are not raiders.” 

Joel doesn’t reply, instead he walks up to the man on the ground and kneels down, Frankie’s gun is still trained on him, but Benny has let his drop, pointing it at the ground instead. 

“You sister is it?” he asks of the man, putting his hand over the gunshot wound on the thigh. 

The man nods, looking petrified under Joel’s hard stare.He yelps loudly when Joel’s hand squeezes the injured area, digging his fingers in. 

“Your sister told me where you came from, and where you’re going. You’d better tell me the same thing she did, or I’m telling my guy over there to shoot her knee off, you understand?” Joel’s voice is hard and low, slowly squeezing the man’s leg tighter. 

“Worcester!” the younger man blurts out, “We came from Worcester, and we’re heading for the Boston QZ but we got attacked and got lost. Please don’t hurt her, she’s my only family!”

“Have you got any supplies apart from what’s in the car?” 

“No, no, I s-swear, we’ve got n-nothing!” the man stutters, groaning under the pain of Joel’s hand digging into his injured leg, “Please, we’ve got nothing!”

“Good boy,” Joel growls, easing off the man's leg and standing up. 

He comes back to Benny and Frankie, wiping his hand on his trouser leg, “They both say the same thing. I say we leave ‘em and take the car, we can trade for it or stash outside the wall, might come in handy sometime.” 

“Fuck, Joel, we need to take them with us, we can’t leave them out here,” Benny says and looks to Frankie for support but he just gives a hesitant shrug. 

“I don’t know Benny, we can’t trust them,” he says. 

“What fucking choice do we have? Leave them injured out here with no guns?” Benny snarls back at him.

“They’re not our responsibility!” Joel snaps, “Let’s fucking- “ 

All three men freeze as the first tell tale sounds echo between the buildings, the snarling shrieks of dozens of infected reaching them. 

“Runners! Runners!” Tommy yells from the car, “Come on, we need to fucking go!” He rushes to the driver’s side of the car, jumping in and the woman sees her chance, bolting from the car and running for the alley. 

“Leave her, just leave her!” Joel yells as he grabs Frankie and starts running towards the car, “Just start the car, Tommy!”

“Benny, no! Leave him!” Frankie shouts as he sees Benny moving towards the injured man on the ground. “Fucking leave him!” 

“Please, please…just kill me” the man begs, looking back over his shoulder and Benny follows his gaze. 

“Fuck!” he gasps, frozen to the spot for a second before he raises his gun and fires, the man slumping onto the asphalt. Benny spins around and starts running after Frankie, the horde of infected barrelling down the street screeching loudly. 

“Benny! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Frankie yells, “Get in the car!” 

Tommy’s already got the car moving as Benny catches up, grabbing hold of Frankie’s arm and getting pulled into the back seat. 

“Floor it, Tommy!” Joel shouts, looking back over his shoulder, out the back window. 

…

Thank fuck Tommy’s a good driver, he speeds through the streets, leaving the horde far behind. He only slows down once they enter the area around the QZ and turns off onto a narrow street that Joel directs him to. 

“Here, down there, park between those two cars and we’ll throw some trash on it.” 

The four men quickly make the car look unusable and head towards the QZ, splitting up as they get inside, stepping out into a quiet alley a few blocks from the wall.. 

“Alright, good run, except for the fucking infected,” Joel says, clapping Frankie on the back, “I’ll see you guys at the bar in a couple of days.” 

Frankie nods and Benny throw the brothers a two fingered salute as they leave. 

“Hey Fish, wait up, we need to talk,” Benny says as Frankie turns to leave too. 

“If you’re gonna yell at me for how we handled the people in the car, fucking save it, I already got an earful from Will after our last run,” Frankie says, his shoulders hunched and eyebrows pulled tight, “I don’t need another lecture on how we’re using army tactics on civilians.” 

“Frankie, man, c’mon, you’ve got to admit, that was pretty fucking bad? We should’ve just observed them, not fucking attacked,” Benny rubs his hand over his face, “I mean, why the fuck did Joel even pull that stunt with forcing them to stop? And why did you open fire? I’ve never seen you jump the gun like that, Fish.” 

“The guy in the car, I thought he was about to pull a gun on Joel, so I shot first.” 

“And the interrogation technique? You taught him that?” 

“So what? We do what we need to do to survive.” 

Benny shakes his head, “That was not about survival, I don’t know what the fuck that was!”

“Just fucking leave it, Benny! Ok?” Frankie snaps, scowling at his friend, “I’ll see you later, I need to get something done.” He shoulders his backpack and heads off in the opposite direction of the apartment. 

“Fish, c’mon!” Benny calls after him, but Frankie just gives a dismissive wave of his hand without turning his head as he rounds the corner. 

“Fuck…” Benny mutters and stalks off towards the radio office, he needs to see you. 

…

It feels like deja vu when you find Benny outside the building where Sean lives and has the radio office. 

“I’ve got to talk to you about Frankie,” he says and you feel like your heart stops, you’d been trying to find Frankie all morning, until you had to go to the radio office. Pope promised he’d keep looking, checking back at the apartment during the afternoon. 

“Did something happen to him? Pope and I have been looking for him all day!” you say, grabbing hold of Benny’s arm and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“He didn’t tell you we were going on a run with Joel and Tommy today?” 

“Benny, is he ok?” You feel like shaking him but you limit yourself to grabbing his arm tighter and Benny nods. 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine, he’s fine, he came back with me but he said he had to do something when we got back.” Benny takes in your anxious looking face as it slips into relief and returns your grip on his arm, putting his hand over yours. “He didn’t tell you and he hasn't come to see you yet? Is something going on with you guys?” 

You sigh and feel yourself deflating, your shoulders sagging with relief that Frankie’s ok, but at the same time, that lead weight settles in your stomach as you worry about his behavior again.

“Walk me home, Benny, please,” you ask, “if you have time?” You feel like Benny’s friendly presence next to you is the only thing that will make your feet move down the street as you chew on your bottom lip. 

“Sure, I’ll walk you, I need to get back to Eve but...but maybe that can wait, what’s going on?”

“Tell me what happened when you were with him today,” you say, taking his arm and leaving the front entrance. 

Benny looks around the two of you as you start walking down the street, checking that there is no one near that can overhear first and then he tells you the whole thing. 

“Fuck…” you sigh for what feels like the twentieth time as Benny ends by telling you that Frankie took off after they got back. “His PTSD has been getting worse and both Pope and Will brought it up in the past few days. That last run with Will, things went bad and Pope’s been noticing his behavior being off too.”

You’ve reached the door to your building and you stop, looking up at Benny’s frown. “Yesterday I tried telling him that I think he shouldn’t go on runs with Joel anymore. Joel triggers something in Frankie and…I don’t know…I feel like maybe they aren’t good for each other. They’ve both suffered an unimaginable loss, in the worst possible way, and when Frankie got help, Joel seems to have had to deal with it on his own and it’s made him…just…very dark, like he’s just ‘existing’ and doing what he needs to do to survive…”

“And he has no empathy for others,” Benny fills in, “he didn’t even stop to consider that the people in the car could be just people trying to get to the QZ, and he left them with no second thought when the infected came, it was all about eliminating a potential threat and then about saving himself and Tommy.” Benny swipes his cap off his head and drags his hand through his hair, sighing. “I’m not even sure he would bother to save Frankie and myself, if we hadn’t gotten to that car in time.”

“But Frankie doesn’t see it,” you say, “and when I asked him to not go on runs with Joel anymore because I think it makes his PTSD worse, we got in a huge fight,” you sigh deeply, dropping your eyes to your toes and you feel Benny’s hand on your shoulder. “He got really mad when I said I thought he was too violent with this guy, Frankie threatened to gouge his eye out. But Frankie said he only did what was needed to get the antibiotics for Sean’s grandkid.” You swipe your hand over your cheek as tears start to drip down, “Fuck, I don’t wanna cry again,” you say, anger seeping through your voice, “Fuck!” 

You tilt your head back up and look at Benny’s worried eyes, “Come on, it’s you and Frankie, you’re everything to him, one fight doesn’t ruin it,” he says, rubbing your shoulder

“He walked out, Benny, right in the middle of the fight. He’s never done that before, he just took off with Joel. And then he came home really drunk and we started arguing again and he passed out on the couch, he said he thought I didn’t want him in my bed anymore. And then this morning he left again, without saying anything. He went outside the wall and didn’t even say goodbye.” Tears spill over properly now and you sniffle, trying to stem the flow, but the nerves of the day catches up with you. Benny starts rubbing his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort you. 

“Let’s get you inside, Frankie might be home already, you two need to talk it out, c’mon,” Benny gently hooks his arm around your shoulder and guides you through the door and up the stairs. You fumble out your keys and unlock your front door, opening up to a still dark apartment. 

“Alright, he’s not home yet, but he’ll be here soon, I’ll wait with you until he turns up,” Benny says and starts to lift off his still heavy backpack and you stop him. 

“No, please, go home to Eve. I know she’s worried about you since you went outside, get back home. I’ll be fine, and Pope’s next door if I need anything.” You put your hands on his chest and try, and fail, to nudge the big man towards the door. 

“You sure? I’ll wait for him, and slap some sense into him if needed, just say the word,” Benny replies, tilting his head down to catch your eyes properly. 

“I’m sure, Benny, please go home,” you give him another pointless shove and he gives with a small smile. 

“Ok, if you’re sure I’ll go, but give me a hug first,” he says and bends down, capturing you between his long arms. Benny’s signature bear hugs are all encompassing and he lifts you up, shaking you gently and making you giggle through your tears. 

“Just remember, it’s you and Frankie, you’re the love of his life. All he does, he does for you, if he’s lost his way, all he needs is for you to bring him back home. To you.” 

“Benny, when did you become so insightful?” you smile weakly as he puts you down on your feet. 

“Not insightful, I’ve just watched you two over the past, what is it? Eleven years now? And with Eve, I get it, what you two have. I’d do anything for her, and I know that’s all Frankie ever wants to do for you.” 

“Get back to her, Benny, before you make me cry again,” you say, giving his arm a final squeeze before he steps through the door. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“I’ll come by the radio tomorrow and check on you, ok?” 

“Ok, Benny, stay safe, love you!”

“Love you too, sis!” he calls as he jogs down the stairs. 

…

You try to keep busy while you wait for Frankie; preparing dinner, cleaning the apartment, you even pull out your gun and start disassembling it on the coffee table to get it cleaned. It’s dark before he comes home, you hear his footsteps in the hallway first and then the key. Even before he opens the door you know something’s wrong, he struggles with the key in the lock, fumbling with the handle and you stand up, leaving the pieces of the gun on the table. 

“Frankie?” you ask as the door shuts behind him, “Are you ok?” You walk over to the front door, and he glances up at you before he drops his backpack by the door. 

“Yeah, ‘s fine,” he mumbles, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the hook. “Went out with Benny today.” 

“I know, Benny stopped by the radio,” you say, your body freezing as he shuffles past, only briefly pausing to drop a peck on your cheek, perfunctory. He smells of whiskey, fresh whiskey, like he’s just been drinking. 

You don’t even know where to start as you follow him into the kitchen, the argument last night, him leaving this morning without saying anything, his run with Joel today or the way he stumbles around the kitchen table towards the stove. 

“Frankie…” you say again, making your voice soft, you feel like you’re talking to a child, or a wild animal, not your sweet Frankie who you know so well. When he doesn’t even react, let alone look over at you, you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, reminding yourself that this is his PTSD, this is not your Frankie. 

“Frankie, talk to me please,” you start again, coming up next to him at the counter, you put your hand on his arm. 

“What did Benny tell you? That we went out again?” he says, still not looking at you, his tone clipped. 

“Yes, he said you took out some raiders and then…” you pause, you don’t know how to phrase it but Frankie does it for you. He steps away from you, and leans against the counter on the other side of the kitchen. 

“H-he told you we took out three people in a car, that I shot one of the guys when I shouldn’t have, right? That’s what he told you? T-that I’m out of control and violently torturing civilians?” His voice is harsh, there’s an edge to it you don’t recognise and he’s still not looking at you. 

“He’s worried about you, Frankie, and I’m too,” you say, “you haven’t been yourself these past few months.” You try to find his eyes but he’s got the bill of his cap pulled low, eyes on the floor two feet in front and his fingers are twitching, nervously. 

“I already told you, I do what I need to do, to stay safe,” he mutters, the edge still sharp in his voice, crossing his arms tight over his chest, crossing his legs too, closing himself off from you. 

“Benny said they were civilians, just trying to get to the QZ- “ you start to say but Frankie suddenly flares up. 

“We’d just taken out a gang of raiders! It could’ve been more of them! The guy was about to pull a fucking gun on Joel, so I took the shot!” He throws his arms out, meeting your eyes for the first time. “You can’t fucking trust anyone, it’s us or them and I do what I need to do to survive! They could’ve attacked and killed us instead, then what?” 

“But you were never like that before, Frankie!” you can’t help but raise your voice in frustration. When he worked with Pope in Arlington, or when you traveled up to New York with Benny and Pope, he was never so calloused, so distrusting and rash. “You used to observe, calculate the risks, you never rushed into situations, but since you started working more with Joel…I don’t know Frankie, it’s like he rubs off on you.” You drop your hands to your sides, you suddenly realize you’ve mimicked Frankie and thrown them open but now you sigh, lower them and take a deep breath. 

“Frankie…I know you’re capable of real violence,” you shake your head, sighing, “but you’re not a violent person, it’s like it’s getting away from you when you work with Joel and I do-” 

“Maybe I am a violent person now? This is the person I need to be now, to keep myself safe, to keep us safe!” Frankie slams his hands against the cupboard and stalks out of the kitchen, turning and gripping the back of the couch as he gets to it, looking back at you. “I do it for you, don’t you get it?! Maybe this is the person I have to be now to keep myself safe, for you, to stay alive for you because I have to keep you safe!”

“Then stay here, stay in the QZ,” you follow him towards the living room. “I don’t want you to go out any more if this is what you have to do. It’s destroying you!”

“That's all I can do!” he shouts back at you, “That’s all I’m tra-trained for, I’m the b-best at it! It’s the only thing that makes a difference!”

“Frankie, you don’t have to-” you begin, but Frankie just shakes his head and starts pacing the living room like he can’t hear you.

“E-every time I leave you make me p-promise to come back safe, did you ever stop to think that this is what I have to do to keep that promise to you?! I have to stay alive to keep you safe, I promised you that and now you think I’m a monster for what I have to do?” 

Frankie slams his hands hard against the wall and spins round, stomping across the living room again and you’re worried now, he’s spiraling out of control, his voice becoming more and more unstable. “I d-do this for you, I stay a-alive for you, don’t you get it! I would’ve fucking ki-killed myself after she died! I was so fucking close to it, so-s-so fucking close to just walking into that fucking lake and ending it! If-if it wasn’t for you still in that cabin!” His voice is rising to a shout, spinning around and slamming his fist into the wall again, “I just..I promise to come back every time, I have to come back but you still think I’m just violent, just a fucking monster, just a mo-monster, I-I can’t- “

“Frankie, c’mon man!”

You didn’t even hear the front door open but Pope suddenly walks into the living room. You’re frozen by the kitchen as Frankie paces, more and more agitated, back and forth, his arms waving in front of him as his mind whirls. You can see his glassy eyes, his breathing is starting to get erratic but you have no idea how to stop this. But Pope strides over to his friend and stands in front of him, forcing him to come to a halt. 

“Francisco, cálmate, hermano. Por favor;” he tries to catch Frankie’s eyes, gently placing his hands on his shoulders and holding on as Frankie tries to shrug them off, looking at him with almost unseeing eyes.

“Frankie…fuck…” he sighs as he scans his face, “you’re high as a fucking kite. What did you take?” 

At that Frankie’s eyes snap up to Pope’s, “Fucking nothing!” he snarls, wrenching himself away and stumbling back towards the couch. 

“Fish, I’ve seen you high more times than you can remember, I know when you’ve been using, man,” Pope says as Frankie grabs the back of the couch again, hiding his eyes beneath the bill of his cap again, refusing to look at you or Santi. 

“Frankie…” you try, your voice wobbling as you recognize the signs in him but he just shakes his head. 

“I had a few drinks with Joel, I’m not fucking high,” he mutters but Santi shakes his head. 

“C’mon, Fish, I know you’re struggling, she knows it too, we just wanna help you,” he takes a few steps towards Frankie, the frustration seeping through into his voice and Frankie backs away, turning around and going for his backpack. 

“I’m not fucking high,” he snarls over his shoulder, rifling through his backpack. 

“Fine, you’re not using,” Santi says, “then show us your pack.” He motions towards the bag at Frankie’s feet and the way Frankie reacts makes your stomach sink another notch. His hands clench instinctively around the opening, pulling it closer but Pope steps in and reaches for the bag. Frankie abruptly stands up and stumbles back, grabbing it but his movements are slow and Pope’s faster, he snatches the backpack from Frankie, holding it away from him. 

“Coño, pendejo!” Frankie snarls, trying to grab the bag back from Pope, “What the fuck are you doing?!” “What the fuck are you doing, Frankie?” Pope replies with a sneer, shoving him back and Frankie, already unsteady on his feet, stumbles backwards and falls onto the couch. “You told me yourself, never trust a fucking junkie.” 

Keeping an eye on Frankie, while you stand stunned by the kitchen door, your hands gripping the door frame so hard your fingers ache, Pope opens the backpack and digs through it. It doesn’t take him long, under Frankie’s dull eyes he soon pulls out a small baggie with white pills. Pope sighs and holds it out to Frankie. 

“What is it?” 

“Painkillers,” Frankie mumbles, but his eyes drop from Pope to his feet, his lie so obvious it forces tears into your eyes. 

“Frankie…” you whisper and he glances up at you and meets your eyes for a second before he looks away. But even in that brief glance you see the pain and guilt in his eyes and it pushes you to move, walking around the coffee table and sinking down on the couch next to him. You raise your hand to put it on his shoulder but before you touch him he’s on his feet, snatching the bag from Pope’s hand. 

“It’s fucking painkillers, ok?!” he yells, his aggression flaring up as he stumbles towards the front door.

“Catfish, for fucks sake,” Pope shouts as his patience snaps, “get your fucking shit together, man!”

“Please, Frankie, you know this is your PTSD making you spiral, we’ve been here before,” you plead with him, standing up again as he stops with his back to you and the room. But whatever is in his system has control of him now as he shakes his head, his fingers twitching around the small baggie in his hand. Neither of you are getting through to him now, his body language closed off, even with his back turned you see the walls go up. But still, you go up to him where he stands by the door. His chin is on his chest, his shoulders up by his ears, you can feel the tension rolling off him as he fights whatever demon is in his mind. Gently you put your hand on his arm, and he trembles under your touch, giving the smallest shake of his head. 

“Frankie…” you whisper, “please, stay with me, we’ve done this before, we can do it again, I love you.” 

He shudders, a long held breath rushes out of him and he shakes his head again. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I love you, I’m sorry.” He pushes open the door and his arm slips from under your hand. You hear him run down the stairs and Santi comes up behind him, he’s got his coat on. 

“I’ll follow him, I won’t let him get into more trouble, I’ll get him back,” he gives you a quick squeeze and hurries after Frankie. 

…

Frankie rushes through the streets, the bag of oxy burning a hole in his pocket. He has no plan for where to go, he left his coat back at the apartment and the cold March air is making him shiver. Picking up his pace he turns at random, down a street, and then another, losing himself in the narrow alleys of North End, but it doesn’t surprise him when he finds himself in front of Joel’s apartment building, a dirty red brick block. It makes sense; to end up here. He pushes the door open and stumbles up the stairs.

Joel’s slow to answer his front door, Frankie’s almost given up, prepared to sit and wait by the door, when the older man finally opens up and looks him up and down. “Hey Frankie, what’s up? You’ve got no jacket on.” 

“I ran out on it, left in a hurry,” Frankie mumbles in reply, his mind is still foggy, he can’t quite focus on Joel. “I got some of your supply on me, Pope found it in my bag.”

“Ah, bet he wasn’t too happy about that,” Joel says, waving Frankie inside. “He ain’t too happy about me wanting to trade what we got up in Concord.” He closes the door and motions to the couch and Frankie slumps down on it as Joel goes to the kitchen and pulls out two glasses and a bottle. 

“Give me one of those too,” Joel motions to Frankie’s pocket and sits down at the other end of the couch. Frankie pulls out the baggie and pour out the pills on the coffee table, handing one to Joel, taking another one for himself and they both down it with the whiskey. 

Joel’s not one for talking much and Frankie’s grateful, he just needs a place to forget everything for a while. And for a long time both men sit at opposite sides of the couch, lost in their own minds as the chemicals take over. Frankie tilts his head back, his eye following the cracks in the ceiling until they slip closed and he just feels himself breathing, finally peace takes over in his mind as the fog settles. 

Joel slips in another pill and another few large mouthfuls of the liquor, leaning back against the back of the couch and rubbing his eyes with his hand. 

“You lost your daughter,” he says, almost surprising himself when the words come out. 

Frankie doesn’t move, his eyes closed, “Yeah,” he squeezes his eyes shut, little sparks of red and yellow blossoming behind his eyelids, but he sees something else in his mind. 

He tilts his head forward, opening his eyes and focusing on his hands, “Yeah,” he says again, rubbing his thumb over the fleshy part of his hand, he can almost see the blood on it. “I did, right at the beginning.” 

“She got infected?” 

Frankie balks at the question, the image of his little girl, mycelium under her skin, flashes up in his mind. He’s seen multitudes of infected since, killed so many, seen the thin white strands wriggle towards him as they attack and die in front of him, but he never lets himself commit what they look like to memory. This one is the only one that he remembers. 

“Yeah,” he nods, “one of the first days.” 

He and Joel have never talked about this before. He never talks to anyone about Lucía or what happened to her, not even to the one person who knows what he went through in the aftermath. 

 He glances over at Joel, he’s still leaning back on the couch, his hand rubbing over his eyes. 

“D’you ever talk about Sarah?” 

“No.” The answer is fast and curt. 

Both men sit in silence for a few minutes, Joel shifts on the couch, looking over at Frankie, “Everyone’s lost someone. No one wants to hear about her.” 

“How did she die?” Frankie locks eyes with Joel, suddenly it feels important to know how Sarah died. Joel knows how Lucía died, it feels important to know how Sarah died too. Joel meets his eyes for a few beats before he drops his gaze and stares at the wall opposite. 

“It was the first night. We were trying to get away from town, ran into the military perimeter, a soldier shot at us. She…” Joel loses his words, his jaw clenching shut as he grinds his teeth, dropping his head between his shoulders. 

Frankie feels the fog swirl around his mind, letting the minutes slip by while Joel stares down at his watch. 

“I shot Lucía,” Frankie says, like a confession to Joel, to the man whose daughter was also shot. As if it makes a difference how they died. The daughters died and so did the fathers, when they failed.

The fog in his head clears slightly and behind the mist he sees the gun in his hand, aimed at his little girl, who no longer recognises him as she screeches and flails under the weight of her mother’s body. He reaches forward to the coffee table and takes two more pills, swallowing them down with the last of the whiskey in his glass, letting the fog cloud his mind again. 

Joel blinks and looks at Frankie as if he has to think about what the other man just said, “You shot her?”

“I had to, I’d seen what they were turning into. I couldn’t…” 

Joel leans forward, refilling his own glass and Frankies before he leans back, “I would’ve done the same.” 

The two men sit in silence as the fog swirls through them, making thoughts slow to appear and slow to disappear. 

“Sarah,” Frankie says, pushing a thought to the front of his hazy mind, “S-she was a great kid, L-Lucía loved her, fucking loved her. Didn’t stop talking about her for days after we got back.” 

He grips the glass and takes a sip, shaking his head, trying to remember the comforting thought he just had, it’s stuck somewhere in his chest, he can feel it. 

“I don’t…I do-don’t believe in God, I l-lost any faith I had in the army, you know. S-so many fucked up things that I saw, that I did,” he says, lifting his glass, motioning to the world outside. “I don’t believe in any god, any-anything. But I wish I did, because if Sarah d-died on that first night, that means that wherever they went, our kids, our little girls…Sarah was there waiting for Lucía. They weren’t alone,” Frankie pauses, he feels his chest constrict, that feeling like he can’t breathe threatening to overtake him. “I’d like to believe they weren’t alone,” he whispers, but in the quiet room, Joel still hears him.

Frankie slumps back down on the couch, spilling whiskey down his shirt, his burst of clarity suddenly spent, “They would’ve had each other…” 

“We failed them,” Joel says, his voice low, Frankie can hear the fog in his mind too. “We should’ve kept them safe, but all we did was stand there. Couldn’t keep ‘em safe.” 

Frankie nods, he feels his brain slowing down again, “I made so many mistakes…but she was the best mistake I made…couldn’t keep her safe,” he takes a large mouthful of the whiskey, it burns on the way down, distracting his mind for a second as he coughs. 

“I don’t talk about Sarah, not even to Tommy,” Joel says, rubbing his thumb over the rim of the glass. “ ‘S’no point, just makes me angrier, I get by better if I don’t think about her.”

Frankie slumps down deeper into the couch, curling himself around the glass in his hand, watching the whiskey swirl around as the fog in his brain follows the motions. 

“How do you stay alive,” he mumbles to the room and Joel tilts his head to look at the younger man, curled into the corner of the ratty old couch. The question is more for himself than for Joel but Joel answers anyway.

“For family,” he nods slowly, once, to himself, “for family, for Tommy. And for your woman, she kept you alive.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement and Frankie sighs. 

“She doesn’t think I should do runs any more, and she’s right, I know she’s right,” he mutters, pushing his cap off his head and rubbing his temple with his free hand, the fog is lifting again and he feels the edge of panic in his mind, but he can’t remember what he’s should panic about.  

“Why not? The drugs?” Joel motions at the dwindling pile of pills on the coffee table and Frankie grabs two of them, knocking them back with the whiskey still in his hand. 

“My head is fucked up. From the army. ‘S’gets worse sometimes, ‘s’gets worse when I do runs, when I do violent things.” Frankie sighs, “She doesn’t like it.” 

Joel snorts, a mirthless sound, “Men like us, you ‘n me, we do the violent things so others don’t have to, you keep her safe.” 

“S’what I t-told h-her,” Frankie grumbles, he can feel his head getting heavier, the fog is so thick he can’t even push his tongue through it, it’s sticking to his teeth. “I do it-do it, t-to keep he-her safe.” He sinks further into the couch, his head leaning on the back of it as he wills his hand to lift up the glass to his lips and drain it. “I-I do it t-to come b-back t-to h-er.” 

Through the fog in his own mind Joel sees Frankie tip forward, the empty glass in his hand, as he passes out. Joel’s glass clatters to the floor as he stumbles to his feet and staggers into the bedroom, falling onto the bed, passing out as his head hits the pillow. 

Chapter 31

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446

[swifty-fox]

Hiii! I love your priest!Gale fics! (I have reread them way too many times 🙈💗🙈) Are you working on part 4? Can't wait for the angst in it

am i ACTIVELY working on them? No I got really caught up in kfak verse!

Right now I',m ending out the chapters of my brady/benny fic. Then finishing Bikeriders smutfic because its ALMOST done (part 1 at least)

and then after that it will be LB part 4

But plans for it are some rough angry car sex (consensual) and maybe we'll get John's backstory

a snippet for you:

“You’re really hitting me in the ‘yes daddy harder’ places with that face you’re pulling right now,” John says, swirling his finger through the over-complicated mess of a coffee in front of him.

It tasted awful, but he ordered it just to see if the kid behind the counter could actually pull it off.

Chick continued to keep his ‘yes daddy harder’ expression, which was in fact a look of profound exasperation and disappointment. And didn’t really awaken anything in John, but he found it plenty amusing to see the way the older mans eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“I could have you thrown in jail today if i wanted, you know,” Chick Harding takes a sip of his own soy latte, “I could make up a reason, I hold your life in my hands.” 

“That’s a misuse of power and a miscarriage of justice, and also you like me. I’m your favorite little POW just admit it.” 

“Someone’s going to pop you one in the mouth, mocking veterans like that.”

John spreads his hands wide in a dont shoot the messenger sort of gesture “hey, I can claim it. My great gandpops was a POW. Got his flight jacket and everything hanging in my closet. This is my history.” 

“I think I should arrest you.”

John grins at him.

“You been meeting with Brady?” Chick asks, setting his coffe down with a pleased hum, begins folding his utensils wrapper accordion style until the cheap paper has become nothing more than a little square. It’s the same thing he does every time, restless fingers the only betrayal that the parole officer wasn’t just a robot.

Which John already knew was false. He’d looked the guy up the moment he’d had access to internet again. Had a neatly sealed Juvenile record and an exemplary military record which meant the guy was both secretly interesting and also probably a little batshit.

“Every couple weeks just like those fascist fucks tells me too. Just like i meet you every six weeks and we pretend I’m in need of babysitting and you pretend you’re not hoping that college boy will finally write his number on your coffee cup.” John leans forward on his elbows,the table creaking under his weight  “I could do it for you, if you’re too shy.” 

Chick doesn’t give him the satisfaction of blushing, but John can see the way his sholulders straighten slightly.

“He even looks like me a bit too. Curly brown hair,” John smooths his fingers across his mustache, “ the sexy landing strip. You sure you’re not displacing some sexual attraction?”

“You are the devil incarnate. That barista means nothing to me.” 

“You shouldn’t be so grumpy, meeting your favorite little felon.” 

“Only person around here that seems grumpy is you, Egan.”

“Me?” John stretches, tilting his chair back with one foot until he nearly topples backward, “Whay’ve I got to be grumpy about? I’ve got a shitty dead-end job, a dying grandma who, by the way, isn’t actually even my grandma, and i’ve got to check in with some middle aged drill sergeant with a thing for some guy who looks like Sean Cody’s next up and coming.” 

“I don’t know what that even means.”

“Oh you so do.” John smiles.

[witheringwidgetwrites]

Benny weir wanting to ask reader out?

Hi hi!! I hope this is OK, I'm a little nervous about it and I ended on a cliffhanger because I wasn't sure which direction I wanted to take it in, I struggle a little bit with more general prompts, but I hope I did Benny justice enough!!!

------------------------

The bell had just rung for the 4th hour class of the day, the halls were quickly clearing out as Ethan emptied his previous class's books into his locker.

"Benny, just go for it." Ethan ducks his head, turning to Benny while he gesture's towards Y/N. He is tired of watching his best friend stare longingly at the back of their head.

"Absolutely not E! Maybe if I had some sort of love potion or maybe something to make them forget it ever happened. Just in case I get rejected," He turned his head back to Ethan, "I need a plan. In all due time buddy."

The bell rung once again before the halls cleared out entirely, a majority of the student body filing into the cafeteria.

Benny and Ethan sat at the lunch table, awaiting the rest of their usual group. "So, what's your plan Benny?"

Benny looked around quickly, a swift bloom of flowers erupting from his hand. He sat them down on the other side of the table, checking again to make sure that no one has seen him. "I will obviously woo them secretly until they fall in love with me, then I'll reveal myself, and they'll have no choice but to be my partner."

Ethan scoffed, and shaking his head he was about to speak up until Y/N sat their tray down across from them, plopping into the seat, Rory following along. Before they could speak, Rory chimed in, "wowza, where did these come from?" grabbing them, and shoving them into his nose.

"Those are for Y/N actually, the little card thing says so, not sure where they came from."

They chuckled, "are you joking?" They picked up the bouquet, checking the tiny card with the inscription of their name. "From secret admirer, ha. This has to be a joke." A soft blush lit up their cheeks as they rolled their eyes, assuming it was some sort of prank.

"I don't think it is," Ethan took a bite of his sloppy lunch potatoes, watching Benny push his around intensely.

"Anyway, did you guys see that new movie that everyone was hyping up?"

The rest of the night was uneventful, until a few days later, when Y/N opened their locked to a stuffed bear. They were used to smaller tiny surprises, but they seemed to really step up within the next few week. The next time it was chocolates, then answers to a math quiz, and then a letter. A long letter. They were eager to share it with their friends, especially Sarah, who might have an idea on who it is.

Y/N waited by their locker for Sarah, who came by a few minutes before the first bell. "Oh my gods, Sarah, read this. I've been getting these presents from a "secret admirer" for a few weeks now, but this is the best one yet."

"I noticed, those flowers you had the other day were gorgeous. I was kinda jealous," she chuckled and started reading, mumbling to herself as she scanned the page. "Wow."

"I can't tell if it's an elaborate prank or not, it's kind of sweet." Y/N shrugged, avoiding Sarah's eyes as she looked up.

"This seems really heartfelt. I bet it's from Benny. 'I want to play Knights Of Ninjitsu IV with you for hours, I want to kick your butt, then let you win.' Who else would write that?"

They chuckled, "god no way it's Benny!"

The bell rung. "Just think about it," Sarah assured as she turned to walk to class. Had these really been from Benny? It would make a little sense, but Benny seemed like he had a type, and that type was not Y/N.

Hours later, they had finally caught Ethan alone. "Is it him, Ethan?" They seemed a little panicked, and he couldn't help but feel bad.

"I can't say who it is. I am forbade." He turned quickly and walked away, almost tumbling over his own footing. The more and more they thought about it, the more sense it made that it would be Benny. But that would be too good to be true.

The small clique had a movie night scheduled for that Sunday evening, and slowly, but surely everyone had arrived. Everyone meaning Ethan, Benny, and Y/N. They had all agreed upon a new movie, normally watching reruns, but tonight's movie seemed a little awkward, Benny had just seen slightly off all night, and for the past few weeks. Ethan ran off to the kitchen, quickly making a few bags of popcorn, the majority of which would be eaten by Benny.

"Oh, I'll go help Ethan!" Benny sprung up, turning on his heel before Y/N grabbed his hand. "I need to ask you something." Benny's breath hitched momentarily, a small blush flooding his face, "of course, what's up?"

"Has it been you?"

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week In Review VI

A bit of a slow week this week - nothing much really happened. Got some writing done, announced some things I'm working on and worked on my TBR list. Odd week as my notifications just disappeared and felt a little disconnected. Things seem to be back on track *fingers crossed* - so lets get on with this weeks review...

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings Part V Mood Board

Salt Water Soft Launch

Autumnal Offerings

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

How Good It Is (Benny Miller) by @wildemaven Fully on the Benny train, this scratched the itch this week with this delightfully wonderful piece of fluff with a delightful touch of spice and I can't wait to get more insights to this couple's relationship.

A Safe Haven Drabble (Joel Miller) by @darkroastjoel You don’t have to have read the series to appreciate the angst in this small little drabble that packs a punch. Explores Joel’s feelings on the impending arrival of Tommy’s child with the grief of missing Sarah and it manages to do it all in less than 600 words beautifully. 

Your Hand In Mine (Joel Miller) by @thelightsandtheroses This is a great opening to a new series and it's such a great opening premise that will have you wanting to find out what happens next and in eager anticipation of what is to come next.

Open Mic Night (Marcus Pike) by @secretelephanttattoo No denying it anymore, I’m ankle-deep in this Pike Puddle and this is an excellent example of what keeps me content with damp *ahem* feet… Are you one of those who forgot it's canon that Marcus was a part of a band? This one-shot is here to remind you with a bang!

Clouds (Joel Miller) by @softlyspector This is incredibly soft with a few hard edges - allusions to events from TLOU2, but no spoilers and no golfing. Highly recommend a read of this.

Little Monsters (Dieter Bravo) by @chronically-ghosted Dad Dieter was not the trope I thought I needed, but here we are and I can’t get enough. This is all what I picture Dieter as a father being like. This is equal parts fluff with equal parts spice which makes for a delightful read! 

For the Night (Agent Ortega) by @ladamedusoif I think the pilot hit the web for all of a couple of hours before we were blessed with this delight. As far as I am concerned this is what the pilot should have been, it’s deliciously raunchy and I may have read it several times. 

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 5 (Triple Frontier Boys) by @rhoorl I don’t know if I still have words for my thots feelings on this update to this series. So please accept this gif and go get caught up, and if you've not read it? What are you waiting for?

Spinning in the Rain (Frankie Morales) by @frenchiereading This is like the best kind of fluff, it's atmospheric, it's indulgent, it's sweet and it's Frankie - what more can you ask for? Oh, and it's based off a song that I already adored and this makes for one to go back to for re-read.

All I Need (Frankie Morales) by @frenchiereading Mel has such a way with these perfect snippets of fluff and romance that make your heart swell and this is another example of this. I can't do it justice, you just need to read it to experience it!

Exposed (Ezra) by @maggiemayhemnj This was a delightful debut and a great read that flowed just as well as Ezra's poetic prose, which Maggie manages to capture perfectly. If you are a fan of Prospect and Ezra, you will not be disappointed!

Personal Day (Marcus Pike) by @sin-djarin If I'm staying in the puddle, I'm going to make sure it's in good company with fanfics like this one! If Marcus Pike is going to ask me to come back to bed for five more minutes, who am I to deny the man?

Shared Breaths | Chapter 9 (Frankie Morales) by @frenchiereading It's a triple header here for @frenchiereading! The slow burn of the first eight chapters pays off with a bang here and, it does not disappoint! If you're late to the game like I am on this excellent story, I very much recommend jumping in because it does not disappoint!

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

The thots were truly alive and well on this Narcos gifset. I don't think the image of this post is burned into the back of my eyelids. Also, might have prompted some non-Narcos writing somewhere in the WIP pile...

Thoughts on the contents of the Delta Landscaping Yelp page? We got you here!

@goodwithcheese's book recommendations! I'm off this week and hoping to get some reading done between parental activities.

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

I got four episodes deep on Wrestlers, a Netflix original docu-series on OVW, a Wrestling farm out of Florida that was once where the WWE sent its superstars to cut their teeth before making their debut. I once upon a time was a big WWE fan, so this has been an interesting watch. I'd recommend it too even if you're not a wrestling fan as there are some interesting stories from both those who run it and those who live it.

This Week’s Song…

On a N'Sync kick this week with the rumours that they're going to be reuniting for more than just the Trolls 3 soundtrack/movie. I will be feral if the rumour of a reunion tour materializes!

Happy Sunday all! Here's to a great week ahead!

B 💕 x

[dove-da-birb]

Meet William Chaloner

Picrew | Picrew does not belong to me | I decided to give Chaloner a glow-up since I accidentally deleted the OG photos ; - ;

"Issac Newton's nemesis. Mischievous, outgoing, and has a knack of getting into and out of trouble. Throws apples at Newton /j If you know the thing about the Mint, then you know how petty these two are." - My OG description of him.

A conman at heart, Chaloner is willing to do just about anything to make some money all while pertaining a mask of innocence. He can read people fairly well, and use that to his advantage. Despite his cunning ways, he does let his pride get the better of him, especially when it pertains with that Warden of the Royal Mint, Issac Newton.

He doesn’t live with the other vampires and bites his thumb at Issac whenever he sees him out and about. Even after all these centuries, those two hate each other and they still fight in public.

Voice Claim; Atsushi Tamaru [yes, they will all be TWST VAs, sue me]

Birthday; November 27

Height; 183 cm

Past Occupations; Counterfeiter, coin clipper, confidence trickster, quack doctor

Current Occupation; High end clothing boutique owner

Hobbies; Counterfeiting coins and mocking Newton 

Dislikes; the authorities, Issac Newton

Specialty; Getting away with schemes

Weakness; His own pride

Favourite food; Figgy pudding

Hated food; Herring

Vampire type; Lesser vampire

Animal Companion; a rough collie named Thatcher

Some History [all Wikipedia babey, I did my time writing academic papers and this is for fun]

William Chaloner was many a thing during his most active years. A nailing apprentice. A bawdy pocket watch seller [among other things]. A quack doctor selling faux cures to plague victims. And a ‘fortune teller’ who would tell patrons where their stolen belongings were, for a price of course. And a used clothing seller.Tried conning the Bank of England as well. But what he’s best known for is his rap sheet with the Royal Mint and its warden, Sir Issac Newton.

Within his first year of producing counterfeit coins, he had already amassed a fortune and bought himself a house, a carriage to ride in, and clothing befitting a gentleman. He was briefly married for a short stint, but had to flee town due to being a person of interest in a robbery.

He repeatedly tried conning the Royal Mint. His first ploy was to pretend to be just a concerned citizen and bringing up questions about the Mint’s reputation with the amount of counterfeiting. But in January of 1696 he was taken in for questioning and he pointed the finger at the Mint for producing counterfeit coins, questioning the integrity of the people working there. “I never made a guinea in my life,” but he had, and had gotten rich because of this. He also tried to persuade the Mint to hire him, but never was accepted. 

Issac got tired of Chaloner escaping justice and eventually had a watertight investigation done on him. He even made sure a ‘hanging judge’ was the one overseeing the trial to ensure that Chaloner didn’t get away from him again. While in court Chaloner accused everyone of perjury, and thus put the blame on him in order to save their own necks. He also pretended to go mad while locked up, but that didn’t fool Newton. In the end, William Chaloner was found guilty of treason, for the act of counterfeiting coins.

"Present" [aka when MC gets teleported to the mansion]

He mainly makes an honest living nowadays, but he still has that mischievous streak in him. Once he sees Issac out in the street he goes back into counterfeiting currency, and it's an entire benny hill scene, and you're caught up in the middle of this mess. Chaloner hates Newton because 'the bloke' tried to get him executed, whereas Newton hates Chaloner because the man tried to make a fool out of him. He throws apples at Newton, and Issac throws rope at Chaloner; it's a mutual relationship.

Tagging; @azulashengrottospiano [and also jackdaw anon I hope you see this too ^v^]

[hopeamarsu]

Sweat now, shine later

Benny Miller x f!reader (no pronouns) Word count 2,1k Warnings Awkward flirting, a chance of a gym accident (nothing bad happens) Summary: Late night at the gym and an extra ten on the bench press might turn into a big, big mistake. Thankfully a mysterious stranger is there to help. A/N: I got forwarded this prompt from the lovely @musings-of-a-rose, thank you so so much for giving me a chance to write this! ❤️ I had fun with this one and it turned a little bit spicy, but I'd still say it's quite tame. I hope you and the original requestor enjoy it!

Original request: Benny x reader: meet in the gym. Reader is lifting and struggling after so many reps. Benny sees and runs over to her but instead of getting behind her head (someone standing there let's say, back to the reader) he hops over and straddles her, helping her lift. This came from a tiktok video. Unfortunately, the link to the original video isn't there anymore, but I hope I did it justice somehow.

The last set was a mistake.

You could feel your muscles strain and tremble under the weight of the bar when you tried to lift your arms up. It wasn’t the weight itself - you’d done this weight before - but adding an extra 10 at the end of your normal 30 reps was costing you big time and you now realized that not having a spotter was an even bigger mistake. 

Normally your friend Charlie spotted you, but going on an impromptu gym session late at night meant you were alone in a gym full of gym bros and weight bunnies, unnoticed by others. After all, you’d chosen this bench for exactly that reason; being unseen by the Instagram posers and accidentally ending up as a background for a flexing photo. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you focused your wandering mind and tried to push the bar up enough to get it back on its hinges. You needed this one last push and then you’d be home free. You gritted your teeth so hard you were sure your lips had lost all their color. Your arms shook harder and at that moment, you realized with horror that you didn’t have enough strength to push it up. The bar felt a thousand times heavier than it had before and any second now your muscles would give out and the bar would drop down. Right on top of you and with your luck, it would crush your larynx or something equally horrible. 

The morbid ideas flashed in your mind and you kept struggling with the bar, not raising it but fighting tooth and nail for it not to drop. Desperate to find a way out, you began to tip the bar behind you in a last-second attempt to either dislocate your shoulder or push the bar somewhere beyond your throat. 

Suddenly there was an unfamiliar weight on your stomach. A small puff of air left your mouth in surprise at the contact. What? Did someone just sit on you? Why? You didn’t have time to understand when in the next second, the too-heavy bar got lighter and a mysterious help aided your hands until the metal of the bar clanged against support metal. 

The sound finally registered in your humming ears and you let your arms drop, feeling the lactic acid and burn spread all across you. It felt painful but simultaneously the best feeling in the world. You didn’t dare to open your eyes yet, choosing instead to let your mouth fall lax and heavy pants leave your chest. Relief flooded your nervous system, you were okay and not harmed.  

“Hey beautiful, you good?” 

You yerked at the sound, but only your legs moved as you realized your upper body and stomach were still held in place by the mysterious weight on top of you. Your eyes popped open, taking a second to adjust to the bright gym lights, before focusing on a black waistband of shorts and a bare stomach glistening in a light sheen of sweat. Glancing up and up and up, you finally locked gazes with a gorgeous man sitting on you, straddling you and grinning widely. 

His legs were spread wide, stretching the fabric of his shorts and his muscles alone told you the man trained not only to look good but to work with his muscles. And the boyish grin, the one that promised sin was something you’d gladly get lost in for hours and hours. He was almost too gorgeous for his own good but somehow it didn’t look fake, but real. He was real and he was still waiting on your answer. You tried to scramble for an answer but found none that could be said out loud. So you let out the most ineloquent sound leave you.   

“Huh?” 

The man in question chuckled, his legs shaking lightly against your sides. “I asked, are you good beautiful? That was a close one.” He bumped his chin toward the bar on top of you and your eyes flashed to it before returning to him and his gorgeous blue eyes sparkling at you. 

“Yeah, yeah… thank you. Thank you,” you pushed the words out, feeling winded for a completely different reason. The man was perfect, a God incarnated, and he was still sitting on top of you, his weight a comfort and an aphrodisiac. As seconds passed, your greedy eyes took him. You could see the definition of his eight-pack from a mile away but it was his wide smile and kind eyes that had you utterly captivated. You could see him measure you in equal interest, something sparking between you. 

“Why?” 

The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it and the man hummed softly, his hands now on his knees, still pressed against you. If he moved either thumb even an inch, they’d be likely to brush against the underside of your breasts and the mere idea made your belly flutter with welcome nerves. 

“Why what, beautiful?” 

“Why… why sit on top of me?” 

“Oh! I couldn’t get behind you quick enough,” he lifted his eyes, beckoning you to follow. You let your gaze rise, elongating your neck to see behind you. He was right, there was a woman behind your station working with the free weights, blocking the path to your bench. You returned your eyes back, warmth filling you when you noticed his blue eyes had grown darker, a little hungrier at the sight of your bare neck. 

“This was the quickest and safest way,” he continued, his eyes returning to their normal azure hue and a wide smile spreading on his lips. “Couldn’t let a beautiful creature like yourself get hurt.” 

The compliment spread inside you like wildfire, even though this was the third time he’d called you beautiful. “Oh,” your own voice sounded breathy even to your own ears. “Thank you for saving me…” you let the sentence hang, hoping he’d fill it with his name.

“Benny. Call me Benny,” Catching on quickly, the man offered his name and you answered him with your own. He repeated it, rolling it on his tongue and nodding. “It fits you, but I’d rather call you beautiful if that’s okay.” Benny winked, the flirt strong in his voice but it felt sincere at the same time. 

“You can call me whatever you want, gorgeous.” Where your courage came from, you had no clue, but you grasped it with both hands. You let your eyes fall down to his thighs and back up again, shamelessly checking him out. He truly was gorgeous, all strong lines and strength just begging to be let out. You wanted to see him go feral, showcase just what that body could do. 

“Good,” Benny mumbled, his eyes flashing darker and something hardening against your stomach. It was hot and heavy and even if you couldn’t really discern his full length from this position, it felt so good. The tiniest moan escaped you as his stomach flexed and the hardness jumped slightly inside his pant. You bit your lip to hide it, but it was too late. 

His eyes snapped to your lips and his hand moved, his thumb brushing the thin fabric separating your skin from his touch. “As much as I enjoy you under me…” Benny whispered, leaning forward to trap his erection between you and hiding it from outsiders. How a man built from a wall of muscles like his was able to be bendy enough to reach your ear, you had no idea and wanted desperately to find out. You wanted to find out everything about Benny. One of his hands dropped to support right next to your other ear and he leaned impossibly close. 

“… I think I’d prefer you on top. What do you say beautiful, switch places with me?” 

His plush lips were inches from yours but Benny didn’t close the distance. And neither did you, enjoying the electric cloud of anticipation between you far too much. His breath was warm and the weight trapping you between powerful thighs was intoxicating and you found you quite liked how it restricted your movements. He made you feel safe, made you feel desired, and made you feel unhinged with just this and you wanted to explore it more.

Explore him more. You wanted to find out what made him tick, what made him lose control, and just how much of you he could press. You had a feeling Benny could toss you around without any problems. The way your thoughts traveled, painting images of beds, and sweat born from different kinds of activities made your head spin.  

“Mmm, what if I prefer being under you?” You purred and he groaned, his hips grinding down and letting you have another teaser of what was hiding between his legs. His hand abandoned the featherlike teasing up and down touch, gripping your middle fully and letting you feel just how wide it spanned on your body. Your eyes fluttered closed, another tiny moan leaving your lips. 

“Beautiful, you can be on top of me, under me, next to me, I don’t fucking care. You’ve captivated me, beautiful and I am at your mercy. This is far too forward of me and I don’t normally do this, but something pulls me to you and…” 

“I feel the same,” you hurried to reassure him, something in you wanting to erase any trace of doubt in him. The answering grin on his lips lit up the entire room.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. Okay,” Benny lifted up a little and ran his hand through his hair, mussing the dark blonde locks falling over his forehead and you wanted to follow, feel the silky strands between your fingers. “Okay,” he repeated and his eyes twinkled with a promise. 

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

With your agreeing nod, he lifted his body off yours, making you miss his weight immediately. It also seemed the feeling was mutual since he tugged you up quickly, his hand at your lower back in a flash and he pressed your bodies together. You could feel all of him completely, just how hot and heavy and thick he was for you and it wasn’t just the shift in position that made your head swim. 

His other free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head upwards and with a final non-verbal confirmation, Benny finally closed the distance between your lips. 

The world fell away, taking away the smell of the gym and the murmurs of the people around it. It was only Benny, his lips devouring you like you were the sun, the moon, and the stars of his life. He kissed you like you were the answer to every question in his mind and he wanted to know them all at the same time. A kiss you had never felt before, but were instantly addicted to. 

His lips were warm and gentle, the underlying hunger creeping closer until it consumed you both and you matched his vigor with equal strength. Your hands and arms, no longer burning and hurting, gripped his back and crawled upward, feeling the strands of his hair in your fingertips just like you had envisioned. You let your fingers scrape at his scalp and the resulting groan told you the man enjoyed a little sting with his passion. 

Benny’s tongue peeked up, begging for entrance and you granted it happily, letting the heat of the kiss amp up. He owned you, you owned him and the colors were a blur around you. You never wanted to stop kissing him and from the way he moved his lips in tandem, neither did he. 

All too soon, the kiss had to end because you could no longer feel any air in your lungs. You held out off as long as you could but when the black spots appears and you swayed in his arms, you broke the connection. You leaned back, letting Benny chase your lips with a growl when you moved too far away for his liking. 

“Dinner?” You whispered hurriedly before he swept you away again, his kiss salvation and damnation all at one. Benny grinned wolfishly, his hand a possessive warmth on your ass. He squeezed the muscle gently, nipping down to the slope of your neck. His gentle bite vibrated on your skin, letting the liquid heat spread and pool in the apex of your thighs. Before it got too much, he released your pulse point and pinned you down with the intensity in his eyes, the earlier playfulness in his eyes now raw fire. 

“Dinner and breakfast, beautiful. And I know what’s for dessert.” 

* Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this!

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Which of the guys will get along best with Jean?

Ok so you know what the gut punch ti this is? It woulda been Curt.

But anywayssss, seeing as how Curt went to go be a sexy lil Angel, we must not content ourselves with the present. I’m gonna have so much fun writing these guys with her -I hope I can do it half justice to what I have in my head.

I think Douglass would be so down to shoot his shot in a very aware way that he’s got no chance but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity of hitting on her/complimenting her work

Speaking of- I feel like Everett Blakely probably has a very brief but interesting conversation with her, probably about the industry in special effects or some thing entirely unlike what most people ask her about.

Gale gets along with her, appreciates her, is relieved by what a sweetheart she actually is, but he’s also a little preoccupied with Marjorie

Rosenthal think she’s great, can’t believe he’s getting to dance with her, but he also has enough smarts to think she’s pure trouble and leave it at one dance wishing Egan the best 

Hambone wants her advice on nylons for Gerry

Brady can barely make eye contact he’s too haunted by memories of hauling Bucky over to her picture in the Stalag and dipping to new morale lows by giving him outlandish and eventually downright crass pep talks, he didn’t take into account at that desperate time she was someone daughter and he might be called upon to shake her hand.

Tbh ive I no idea what Benny Demarco would do, probably be very happy she immediately asks to meet his son Meatball

Croz sips champagne off her tits, side by side with Egan, on the first night. Jean Crosby keeps a blurry picture of it she got from Ev in the liquor cabinet:

[kirkypet]

six favorite fics meme

Thanks @thebyrchentwigges for tagging me!

I haven’t been writing very long (certainly not compared to some 😄), but I’m coming up to my 8th writing birthday so it’s long enough to have gathered up six favourite fics and have a reasonable amount of difficulty about it

I’ve written for two main fandoms: Mad Max Fury Road, and American Gods (tv), so I’ll be picking from them. Let’s say three from each:

Fury Road

I had to work my way through my in-canon headcanon, if that makes sense, before I found my fun place in this fandom - AUs. What can I say, I’m not outdoorsy, gritty or action-driven enough to do justice to the Wasteland proper. But AUs have a bit more room for manoeuvre.

I’m still not clear what’s the proper definition of Fury Road characters in another fandom’s universe is, but that’s what these first two are.

A Bladerunner take on Citadel life, transplanted to Los Angeles with cyberpunk Many Mothers and a Very Special Max.

💡 What made me think of it? I plotted it out while being bored by Bladerunner 2049

📚 What It Taught Me: that I don’t need to be scared of writing action

🎶 The Song: Do You Know The Way To San Jose? (Dionne Warwick) … thump thump thump

Rebel smugglers and elite sex workers in space! This is an extended retelling of the quite comical Firefly episode ‘Our Mrs Reynolds’, with a sequel thrown in because this story spawned a delightful villain and an unexpected ship.

💡 What made me think of it? A tumblr prompt post doing the rounds - something about a Wild West brothel Fury Road AU idea

📚 What It Taught Me? That it’s a joy to get comments where people are YELLING. Incoherently yelling.

🎶 The Song That Makes Me Think Of This Fic: Delta Dawn (Skeewiff)

This is actually my most popular Fury Road fic, in terms of kudos. More straightforward this one - it’s not a crossover or mashup, but a simple fairground AU. Byrch gave me tarot advice for this, for which I’m eternally grateful.

💡 What made me think of it? Listening to Fortune Teller (Benny Spellman)

📚 What It Taught Me: That you can get a whole plot from a single song (more or less)

🎶 The Song that Makes Me Think Of This Fic: Going to have to say Sweet Caroline (Neil Diamond) makes me want to cry a little now

American Gods

For me, this fandom’s fic was all about FIXING IT. Fixing the end of season 2, to be more specific. Hence, my first two favourite AG fics are two different flavours of Laura Resurrects Sweeney. They’re both technically series, each consisting of one Resurrection fic, one very short follow-up, and one What Happens Next.

This is the first in the Stir Crazy series, a shutdown-era fic with themes of marriage, belief and shortsighted schemes that have unforeseen consequences. Salim’s in this one - and they’re detectives! (nearly forgot to mention that)

💡 What Made Me Think Of It? The devastation of the end of s2. Simple. The detectives bit to be honest I can’t remember where that came from.

📚 What It Taught Me? I don’t need to be afraid of writing smut (I tackle it in much the same way as I do action)

🎶 The Song That Makes Me Think Of This Fic: Promised Land (by any of the artists who recorded that song BUT name checking Chuck Berry who wrote it)

The first in the I Can Fix Him series. Laura goes to Ireland! Shadow does some self-reflection! Themes include the Geography of Gods (I guess you could say that gods, like grapes, are very sensitive to their terroir), polyamory and everyone acknowledging that they fucked up and being better for it

💡 What Made Me Think Of It? A tumblr picture of a portal tomb in Ireland somewhere, can’t remember the specifics but it was the start of the idea

📚 What It Taught Me: It confirmed that flying from Dublin to the US involves way more liminal spaces than any other international travel

🎶 The Song That Makes Me Think Of This Fic: it’s a toss up between Alive And Kicking (Simple Minds) and Gettin’ Happy (Dolly Parton) - I couldn’t fit it in, but that’s the middle Zorya sister’s song. She deserved some good lovin’

This isn’t a fix-it fic (I’d got those out of my system by then), but was inspired by Boss Level, a movie that improves with every watch. Simple premise stolen from that film - assassination mark gets stuck in a timeloop and starts over every time they get killed. Laura of course is the assassins’ mark - and there are several gods queuing up to take her out. Sweeney included, but his definition of ‘take her out’ is a little unclear.

💡 What Made Me Think Of It: Boss Level, as mentioned

📚 What It Taught Me: it’s a joy to get fanart

🎶 The Song That Makes Me Think Of This Fic: Joy Division Oven Gloves (Half Man Half Biscuit). The line ‘talk to the hands’, specifically

Thanks for asking!

Tagging @evilasiangenius @bethagain @lurkinghistoric and the very lovely @jandjsalmon whom I’ve only just now looked up on tumblr (I see you recc’d one of these - thankyouuu 💚💚💚). Btw this was just my way of answering the ‘what are your 6 favourite fics that you’ve written’ question - do it however you like

[chronicallyonlinewriter]

I love your fics so much. I wish we got more of Texas in it is all, the settlement there and their government. It kind of felt like you were setting that up to be bigger but then they just left but I WANT MORE because I love fics about what other places became after the outbreak. Are you going to write more about that? Because I would read it!

Hi! I'm happy you're enjoying my lil' fic.

Moreno was supposed to have a slightly bigger role, as the settlement leader, but he works just as well as a character working in the background, always busy. (Fun fact, I had something of a Diego Luna-ish vibe in mind when picturing him.)

There were things about Galveston that I wanted to fit in the story, and then didn't, but I also think that's just the nature of writing - you can't always get all of your ideas onto the page, unfortunately. I would have loved to flesh out The People's Galveston a little more, but I'm also content with what I managed to fit in around the main story.

Also in the Texas chapters, we were supposed to meet a character named Cameron - who was mentioned briefly in GYOW, the brother of Wesley (Benny's deceased former partner). But I just ended up not having the time or space to bring him into things in a way that would have done him justice, either.

At the moment, I don't have any plans for any Galveston spinoff fics or etc. I have to be honest that ALaYF already takes a lot out of me to write, and as we come to its conclusion it also gets less and less engagement, so I just don't think the effort would be equal to the interest anyone might have in it (which I promise is not me whining about it, I'm just trying to be pragmatic).